Tsorindin So'Tinr
Email: icadeal@yahoo.com Description Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Bronze Height: 5'10" Weight: 170 Age: 17 Place of Origin: Kandor Stats Rank: Trainee Weaopon Score: 1 Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet Primary Weapon: Secondary Weapon: Tertiary Weapon: History Tsorindon?s ugly mug: You see a fit, sturdy youth, somewhere between the ages of 17 and 20 winters. Two dark, piercing eyes establish dominance over his angular face and give him the appearance of alacrity. Bronze, unruly, shoulder length hair coupled with a thin growth of youthful whiskers, aid in adding to a rugged guise. When his locks do not obstruct the view, one can easily spy a large turquoise gem in his left earlobe. He wears a tailored, black doublet that extends from a pair of broad shoulders to mid-thigh and is adorned with flat silver buttons down its center. Smaller buttons of the same design are sewn in close succession from elbow to wrist of his tapering sleeves. Soft woolen trousers of a matching dark hue are bloused at the knee and tucked into a pair of supple leather boots. About his waist is a wide leather belt, clasped with an unadorned silver buckle, gives home to a long utility blade whose sheath ties to his thigh with a leather cord. For warmth, a deep gray cloak lined with fur trails behind. It is clasped to his doublet, at the neck, with a pair of small, rearing horses that have been handsomely carved from gray marble. Protruding over each shoulder, through a crafted cut in his cloak, the hilts of twin short-swords can be seen. Their handles are wrapped in sweated brown leather and topped with matching pommels. The intricate carvings on the circular tops look to be made in a Kandori snowflake pattern and speak of the craftsmanship of a practiced smith. History: No visions of epic struggles or battlefields of glory dance in my eyes as I approach that fabled city. I come because I must. I tread the path of duty, every step bringing me closer to the gallows, the end of my morality. He knew this would end me, he knew he placed the blade against my throat, knew I would not withdraw. With the last of his strength, he gave voice to my demise, ?Will you do this for me, my son? Will you go to the Tower and give yourself into its service, for the time required? You must, for the hope of your salvation, you must see that you are wrong?? I could not have held as much love, nor burned with as much hate, as I did the moment that question came. There was a duality in him. I saw it line his features and burn in his eyes; they held triumph and sadness in such a coupling that it seemed he would give cry of victory and mourn the loss of his child in the same mighty breath. It was so. He had won. He had lost. So it was that my father passed into the Mother?s Embrace, taking a piece of my soul for companionship. As I watched the light fade from his eyes, I stood and turned from him. I would remember his fire and not its diminishing. I felt that all of Kandor should grieve, for it had just lost a noble. A noble, not in status, but a man of honor that the men of those Great Houses frequently boasted of, but never held in their slippery grasp. He was a Kandori soldier, he was a father, and he had set my feet on a path that both I dare not tread upon and dare not stray. And so it is, that I go to the place I most hate and least understand. Duty demands it. But, I will find the answers that none could give. I will know the truth behind the meddling. I will know the reasons why lives are so easily used up and tossed aside in the name of ?The Light?. I will have these answers and I will serve. Duty is the price demanded, honor the currency accepted. For the sake of him, for the sake of my soul, I will not be found lacking. Category:WS 1 Category:Trainee Category:Biographies Category:Warder Bios